


CYBORG

by electronic_tragedy



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Daftworld, F/M, Gen, Pharrell Williams - Freeform, Thomas/Elodie dating, Thomas/Guy fluff, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electronic_tragedy/pseuds/electronic_tragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superhero!Au. Daft Punk is a world famous DJ duo, as well as part-time superheroes in Paris. Underneath the robot visage are two pretty ordinary Frenchmen, Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem Christo. The balance between their two lives are tipped when self-proclaimed "superfan" Daftworld leaks the possible human faces of the robots. More than their surnames are on the line as people get dragged into the struggle and real danger arises. [Chapters are fairly long so updates are slow.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	CYBORG

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am portraying real people who are actually living. I do not actually know how these people act; I just based their personalities around interviews, public appearances, and some info on what other people have told me. I do not mean to misinterpret people. This is fiction, so think of it as that. [AKA Daftworld is in it, and just so you know it's a fictional portrayal of him to prove a point]

The two hour stand-off staged by police was stressful for themselves, and the victims inside the closed-off bank. The robber was trapped, but nothing was- or could be done. She had a pistol with three magazines on hand, as well as several successful robberies under her belt. Over 25 people were trapped in the bank, nervously awaiting aid. Their hands covered their heads, and some cried.

The robber ordered some bank tellers to log out some of their reserves. They complied, although they kept their heads held high. One decided it was good to remind the robber, “They’ve got you surrounded. There’s no way you’ll get out.”

The robber smiled, showing gnarled teeth. “Then why haven’t they done anything yet?”

As a response, the bank teller sat amongst the customers who were fearful for their lives.

Outside of the bank, the police debated what to do next. They would call more people for back up, but the other branches of cops were busy with other crime. The sheriff couldn’t figure out a good way to proceed without having one of the officers or civilians getting shot. He has dealt with cases like these, but there was always a casualty. The sheriff sighed aloud, then rubbed his eyes. He then figured something that could work.

Though reluctant, the sheriff called for someone to get a phone. The other younger cops snickered, knowing what he was referring to. He turned to the younger ones and said, “Sometimes a dead body isn’t an option. This is serious.”

He dialed a number. After one ring, a man picked it up. “What’s the crime?” The voiced asked.

“Serial Robber. Armed and dangerous. Near the intersection of…”

“We see it on the news. They’ll be down soon.”

“That quick?” The sheriff asked.

The male voice chuckled. “We were waiting for a call.”

Literally five minutes later, a low-riding car rolled by. Some police stopped it, but got out of the way quickly.  
Out stepped two robots, one who was taller and colored in silver, and the other shorter with a different styled helmet. They wore armor that coated their bodies, built to enhance their body movements and reflexes. The one colored in silver was named Thomas, and the other was Guy. Anyone who looked at them knew who they were. The world famous DJ duo, as well as part time super heroes of sorts.

Daft Punk.

The duo walked over to the sheriff. Thomas asked, “What’s the situation Officer?” The voice changer, dubbed “vocoder”, altered their voices to make them seem all the more mechanical.  
The Sheriff sighed, and told everything he knew they needed to know in as short time as possible.

 

The robber sat on a counter, with her gun drawn. She fiddled with her jacket zipper, sighing hard every so often. She kept her face blank, hiding inside any emotion that could slip. The bank tellers eyed each other frequently. Some shifted in place. The trapped customers who were crying madly became silent. It seemed that an awkward, impatient air settled inside the bank. The robber was trapped. She couldn’t make a decisive move. It was making everyone uneasy.

Sure enough, she couldn’t handle it. “Goddammit.” She grunted aloud. She stood up, and everyone cowered. “When in the hell are these dumbass cops gonna make a move? It’s been three fucking hours.”

She didn’t have to wait for too long.

The sheriff said over a megaphone, “I advise you to lay down your weapon, come out quietly and surrender.”

The robber chuckled at her timing. She raised her voice and retorted, “Ha, you used that card many times. You think I’ll take it?”

A robotic voice intruded. “Whoever you are, you still have life ahead of you. We guarantee we won’t hurt you if you surrender now.”

Silence fell soon after.

Some people murmured among themselves. Some wondered aloud of who it might be. The robber herself went near a broken window and shouted out, “Who are you? The second voice.”

Thomas looked at the sheriff who shrugged. Thomas put the megaphone near his mask and said, “My name is Thomas. But I think you might know me from Daft Punk.”

The customers and bank tellers’ faces lit up instantly. Some felt relieved, some excited.

“So my actions got the attention of Daft Punk, huh?” She felt a smile form on her face. The robber continued, “What is it that you want?”

“Uh, how about coming out with your hands up? Sure you’ll go to jail, but it would be best to end it now.”

The robber wanted to laugh, but instead thought for a moment. “I’ll lay down my gun, but I won’t leave.”

The sheriff as well as the other cops looked at each other, confused. Guy nudged Thomas. “Sounds weird for someone to say that.” The silver robot nodded.

The sheriff said, “It’s too dangerous to go in. Sounds like some sort of trick.”

The silver robot agreed. “Guy and I will go in.”

Guy was nodding but stopped. “Wait, what?”

“If that’s alright for you, officer.” Thomas said to the sheriff.

“Can’t tell a superhero otherwise. Just be careful.”

The silver robot then stated into the megaphone that the duo would go in themselves to apprehend the robber. She stayed silent. The two looked at each other, and then went inside.

The two walked upon shattered glass, making slight cracks in the impending silence. Before them, the robber sat on the front counter, with the bank tellers and civilians watching intently. She had her gun out, laying on her lap. She stared at the robots. “Here to take me?” She held out her hands, bending them so that her wrists would be the focus point. “Here, cuff me.”

Guy spoke up first. “You will surrender?”

The robber scoffed, “I want to see if you’re brave as they all say. I’ll surrender when you take me outside.” She put her hands back in her lap.

“Leave the gun.” Thomas demanded.

The robber sighed. “Fine.” She slipped off the counter and stood up, allowing the pistol to fall to the floor. The victims all flinched. The robots stood their ground. “Take me.”  
Guy glanced at Thomas, who stepped forward. The robber and Thomas, though masked, locked eyes. He grabbed her left wrist, and pulled her.

Big mistake.

A squeeze of her own hand and a flick of her arm, she twisted Thomas’s own. As the silver robot processed the action and sudden pain, she followed it up with a strike to his chest with her free hand. She recoiled, realizing he had armor. She let go, and back-stepped away from the robots.  
The robber pulled out a set of brass knuckles and slipped them on. She taunted, “Come and get it, Daft Punk.”

Guy acted quickly by diving for the gun. The robber kicked it away.

“Guy, the people. Get them out. I’ll deal with her.” Thomas, who stood across from the robber in fighting stance, gestured towards the cowering civilians.

The golden robot wanted to protest, but nodded. He ran towards the group and began to usher them out.

Thomas stared at the robber as she attempted to circle him. She got tired of it quick. She landed two feints as the silver robot dodged them. He threw two blows as well. One knocked her in the face hard. The robber stumbled back. The robot came closer, but that was a mistake as well. She gave him a stronger, quicker punch right in his visor.

 

The police attempted to speak with Guy about the money, but a screech of Thomas’s vocoder roused him. The golden robot’s head snapped towards the bank, and felt fearful for his friend. Guy said his apologies to the police and the civilians. He turned and jogged up the steps into the bank.

 

Thomas’s head snapped back. During the recoil period, the robber grabbed his left arm and twisted it around his back. His right arm groped the air for her, but she managed to seize it and put it behind his back. She tripped him, landing him face-first to the marble floor. She sat up on his back and arms. “Are you sure you’re Daft Punk? ‘Cause you’re a horrible fighter.”

Thomas grunted and moved around, panting sharply. “You’re too- fast.”

“So I am.” She said, grabbing the gun near them. “Let’s see if that helmet can take a bullet.”

“No!” Guy shouted, running towards Thomas. The robber noticed the other robot, held up her gun, and pointed it at him. The golden robot still ran towards the two, his eyes set on Thomas, who was on the floor. She hesitated for a moment, and then put her finger on the trigger and fired. Guy bent down as he ran in a zig-zag pattern.  
The sound of the bullets echoed throughout the bank, which made the police outside look at it, worried. The sheriff took a glance then shouted orders at the others.  
The robber kept pulling the trigger but soon nothing came out. She couldn’t act fast enough before Guy dived on her. He yanked the gun out of her hands, and grabbed her other hand. With his weight, he pushed her down and held the position. He threw the gun aside and tried to keep the robber down as she writhed madly. In his still position, Guy noticed his rapid heartbeats.

“Thomas.” He looked over his shoulder and saw his friend on his hands and knees, while shaking. Catching his breath, probably.

Soon, a thunder of footsteps erupted as police swarmed the bank, with some more heavily armored units. One of them with a pistol yelled at Guy. “Get off. We’ll take it from here.”  
Guy stood up, although too quick as his blood rushed everywhere. His vision became fuzzy as the robber stood up with her hands up. He knelt down as quiet returned to his ears. “Dammit.” He said to himself, relieved. He gathered himself, and got up to see the silver robot, who was now on his back.

“It’s over.” Guy said to Thomas, both panting. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Thomas sat up and offered a hand. The golden robot took it, their fingers intertwining. After a squeeze and a tug, the two robots embraced. “Good job buddy.” The two let go.

“So you two are human after all,” The sheriff commented, walking into the semi-destroyed bank. “I gotta say, that was pretty brave of you two.”

“We are pretty human under this armor.” The silver robot replied. He turned to Guy, who punched him in the arm. “Let’s go outside.”

The sheriff and Daft Punk walked outside. The cop stopped and grunted, “ _Merde_. It’s the news people.” Three news vans parked around the bank, since a few cop cars left. The robber, now in handcuffs, left the scene in a police truck. The civilians were getting interviewed, but as soon as the reporters and cameramen saw the superhero duo, they almost sprinted up to them.

The two making up Daft Punk looked at each other and sighed.

“This just in. Daft Punk- the superhero music duo helps police arrest a serial robber. Now here is Daft Punk themselves.” The reporter ran up to Thomas and shoved a microphone in his face. “Thomas, how did you and Guy manage to take down this elusive criminal?”

Thomas adjusted his helmet and stuttered, “F-funny how you ask that... Well-”

Another reporter jumped in to get in on the action. “Thomas, people have been wondering- when is your next live tour?”

“Uh- we don’t have any dates or plan to say that we do-”

Behind him, Guy was blinded by several cameras. He turned and went to Thomas’s side. Guy tried to whisper, but the vocoder made his words louder than intended. “Can we go? I’m suffocating.”

Another reporter shouted over the mixture of shouting journalists, “Daft Punk! Are you two secretly in love?”

Thomas was quick to deny every rumor thrown at the two. He frantically looked around until Guy pointed out their car, which was parked in an alleyway. Thomas passed his friend the keys and let him run off with them. As a result, reporters surrounded the tall superhero, and drowning him in one-sided interviews.  
The robot in gold backed up quickly out of the alleyway, and honked the horn to signal Thomas’s escape. He noticed and yelled several apologies at the media. He sprinted towards the car and dived in.

One fairly short reporter followed and asked, “Why is it that you avoid the media, Daft Punk?”

Thomas was half-way in rolling up the window. He shouted, almost breaking his vocoder, “You don’t allow us to finish a question. Sorry, but _au revoir_.”

Guy slammed the gas pedal, and peeled away from the street in front of the bank. Thomas peered over the car seat to see a couple of news vans following them. “Guy-Man, they’re on our tail.”

Without warning, the car swerved into a narrow alleyway. Thomas was thrown to the side of the car and smacked his helmet against the side window. The vocoder screeched some feedback in response to the sudden impact. Guy hit the brake suddenly and fairly hard. A screech sounded from the pavement. Luckily Thomas didn’t receive brain damage because of his seat-belt. “Did we lose them?” His friend asked.

Adjusting the crooked helmet, Thomas looked into the rearview mirror. The vans kept going straight down the road, oblivious to the turn that they made.

A sigh of relief. “Yes, Thank God. Let’s head home.”

“But first,” Guy said, “The helmets.”

Thomas nodded as a response. The two, synchronized, pushed a button located at the lower jaw, and with two hands, removed the robot helmets. They also removed the façade of Daft Punk and became ordinary Frenchmen, named Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo.

Guy-Manuel adjusted the rearview mirror in order to check his hair. It was a mess. He scowled at his helmet hair. Thomas checked out his own curly hair and giggled at his good friend’s dilemma. The long-haired man said through teeth, “I think I should shave it again.”

“Nah, I like your hair.” Thomas said, running his own fingers through it. Guy allowed it, almost leaning towards the touch. Thomas pulled his hand back and continued, “Just get one of those uh- hair caps. For wigs.”

“Yeah, but it won’t get rid of the sweat from these things.” Guy-Manuel indicated the helmet in his lap. He reached behind him and hid the helmet underneath the back seat. Thomas followed.

The two got settled in their seats. Guy backed out of the alleyway and turned into the street, homeward bound. Thomas said, “Don’t you think they were more vicious than usual?”

A sound that came from the long-haired man depicted his deep hatred for the situation they just escaped from. “What is their problem?”

“I think they just want to take off our helmets.” Thomas replied, putting on a leather jacket that covered his chest armor. He removed the gloves as well. “Hey, you did well in this fight. In the last one I did most of the heavy-lifting.”

Guy-Manuel turned his head away, so he wouldn’t face Thomas. “She was hurting you. It was the least I could do.”

“Guy-Man, you do know this is dangerous. You have to expect getting hurt…”

“I don’t like it when I see it happening to you, alright?”

Thomas nodded, knowing how his friend felt. After over 20 years of being together, he knows when to change subjects. “Hey, you wanna get some food? I’m kind of hungry.”  
Guy-Manuel stopped at a red light and considered his last meal. He agreed, “Yeah, but it has to be drive-thru, you know?” He indicated his own armor.

“Right. But I uh… You know, meet up with Elodie soon.”

Guy sighed, his heart sinking along with it. “Isn’t she filming for a movie?”

“Yes, but she wants to talk to me.”

“She can just, I don’t know, call you?”

Thomas folded his arms behind his head. He recognized his friend’s look when he’s in a lesser mood. He saw the way Guy averted his gaze away from him when he talked about his movie star girlfriend. “She wants me to get her coffee. C’mon, Guy. I’ve haven’t seen her in person for a week. I see you every day.” Thomas saw that Guy kept his eyes elsewhere. “Here, just drop me off at the set. We should change before that, and then we can go shop around town or something. It’s a nice day for January.”

Guy-Manuel smiled, but it was hidden since his head was turned away from his friend. “Alright. It shouldn’t be longer than 20 minutes, right?”

“Well, depending on breaks, her longest time was around an hour between scenes. I’m sure it won’t be long.”

A pause as Guy considered it. “Ok.”

 

 

Blood was slapped across her face for her shoot. She wore a robe over her costume, as it was winter. Even though she was viewed as just another celebrity to most, Elodie was just a regular woman in Thomas’s eyes. Elodie took a gulp of her coffee and said, “Are you sure you’re not in _Fight Club_ or something? Or did you and Guy-Man get in a fight?”

Thomas, who brought a short sleeve shirt for his change of clothes by accident, sighed. He forgot that the last fight left his arms bruised. “No, I just got- hit.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Thomas swallowed. He fought the urge to fidget or make himself suspicious. He wanted to tell her the truth, since it would be easier. “I was moving heavy boxes around and a couple- yes, a couple of them fell on me.”

“Thomas,” She pulled off her shades to look him strictly in the eye. “How can you make the money you do in a _mailroom_?”

“I’ve already told you, I’m the manager and I’ve been promoted financially…”

“Uh-huh, yeah. Sure.” Elodie put her sunglasses back on. “Sometimes I think you do bad things just to make your mailroom experience more…”- She thought a moment- “Extravagant or something.”

Thomas laughed nervously. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes I think you’re secretly a drug dealer or a gang leader or something. You call me late, you always make excuses, and you always have bruises or cuts… Thomas, are you lying to me?”

Thomas jumped back slightly and was about to reply. Luckily, before he could, a booming male voice called from across the destroyed city set, “Miss Bouchez! We’re ready for the next scene.”

Elodie stood up, and removed her robe. She was dressed in a dirty jacket, ripped jeans, all slathered with what looked like mud. A makeup artist ran over to her and frantically applied faux mud and extra blood to her face and neck. Elodie put her robe on her chair, but handed her then empty coffee cup to Thomas. “Alright Scarface, I’ll call you back later. This next scene’s long so expect it to be tonight.”

Thomas just replied with, “Um that’s fine. See you, E-Elodie.” Thomas sheepishly smiled at his sudden stutter, which made his celebrity girlfriend give him a peck on the cheek.

The makeup artist commented in a tired tone, “Oh, Miss Bouchez, now I have to re-apply it…”

 

 

Thomas called Guy to pick him up, but he was still in the parking lot near the set. Thomas caught sight of his friend, who was having a smoke while leaning on their car. Thomas snickered. “Looking cool, Guy-Man.”

Guy glanced up and him and grunted, “Shut up.” He spat out the cigarette and stamped it with his foot. “That was quick.” He opened the passenger door, eyes still on his friend.

“I guess I’m driving.” Thomas muttered, getting into the driver’s seat. After buckling in, he continued, “Yeah, turns out she has a long scene to do.” Simultaneously, a boom went off from the set and gray smoke rose into the sky. “…And dangerous.”

“Cool, where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should walk around down town since no one knows who we are.”

“Sounds fine.”

A quick drive to the shopping district was only a small expense for the good weather. The air was cool, and the sun decided to come out. A slight breeze blew, and Guy-Man’s once matted hair waved in it. As if he was in a hair commercial! Thomas thought to himself. He walked slightly behind him yet still by his side.

Thomas’s eyes set on Guy-Man’s shoulders. They were scrunched up, almost in a perpetual shrug. He walked so awkwardly, his feet moved in short yet quick steps. But as Thomas moved closer, Guy seemed to straighten up. Was it confidence? At random intervals, Guy would turn his head to make sure Thomas was behind him. The tall Frenchman couldn’t help but smile a little. In times of calm, Thomas can’t help but notice the little things. Especially about his friend of over 20 years. He never seemed to find out everything about him. The little hidden secrets riddled about Guy-Manuel is probably one of the reasons Thomas was friends with him for so long. He felt grateful.

After some silence, the tall man spoke up, “Where do you want to go Guy-Man?”

“I don’t really want to shop. Just walk.” Guy replied.

“Ah, alright.” The two walked by a technology store, in which the front window featured display TVs. What caught Thomas’s eye was that they featured a news report. “Hey. Look.” He grabbed his friend’s jacket and tugged him.

“What? Oh.” Guy-Man stopped and turned. The news was reporting live from the bank where they captured the robber. The headline was: “DAFT PUNK SAVES THE DAY AGAIN- Elusive Serial Robber caught by world-famous hero-musician hybrid duo.” They were showing footage from earlier, where they drove away from the media. Guy laughed at Thomas’s ' _au revoir_ '. They then moved to present time where a female reporter was speaking to passerby.

“So what do you think about Daft Punk?” The reporter asked a random youth.

The teenager looked quite happy. “I love their music. Their music actually helped me out of a rough spot when I-”

The reporter then caught sight of someone off-screen and said, “Hey, aren’t you…”

On-screen came an aged late twenties-early thirties looking male who wore a fairly un-stylish outfit. “Daftworld.” He said. “Daft Punk Superfan.”

“I hate those.” Guy-Manuel joked. His voice quickly changed into bitterness. “He cut off that other kid. Jackass.”

The reporter seemed to focus her attention on “Daftworld”. She asked, “So what makes you a ‘Superfan’?”

“I buy everything with their name on it. I follow every news story about them. I also make sure to go to every location they’ve been to. I’ve taken much pride in what I do.”

Thomas agreed with his friend. “Yeah, he seems a bit weird.”

Daftworld continued to speak, even though the reporter looked like she wanted to get away. He seemed to go on and on about how great Daft Punk was to him. He praised their music and heroics…

Guy nudged Thomas’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go.” Thomas nodded.

The tall Frenchman couldn’t help but keep listening when he started to follow Guy. What caught his attention was Daftworld stating, “I’m also close to getting their identities. I need some evidence, but I’m close to figuring it out. Oh yeah I’m also working on my own armor suit…”

Thomas felt sick at this. But he swallowed the disgust and carried on. He caught up to be next to Guy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I got a basic idea of this fic a few weeks ago, but decided to write it after I saw that Daftworld video. Big thanks to a friend giving me help with ideas on how to make this piece of writing better. By the way, Thomas and Guy don't hook up because I'm trying to be realistic but I'm sprinkling in some details that might suggest something else. (There are plenty of Thomas/Guy fics out there, so yeah)


End file.
